


youth

by theowlinsomniac



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1980s, M/M, check a/n for trigger warnings, jasper/maya is the only other confirmed relationship, miller pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-18 21:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5944269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theowlinsomniac/pseuds/theowlinsomniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's seven years old and Monty is eight, giving Jasper a huge head start in the best friend competition, especially since the two had practically known each other since birth. It's a catchup game from the start, but Nathan likes a challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	youth

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to the minty sinners gc. you guys inspire me to do great things. 
> 
> special thanks to zoë for helping me edit. 
> 
> inspired by troye sivan's album 'blue neighborhood,' which is also where the title comes from
> 
> some important notes:   
> \- miller's name is nathan in this fic (full name is nathaniel) and monty's full name is montgomery.   
> \- monty is older, but smaller.  
> \- tw for racism, homophobia, homophobic slurs, swear words, depression, death, and abusive parenting
> 
> if you have any questions about this fic pls feel free to hmu on twitter (@blamebellamy) or on tumblr (@oakheart)! 
> 
> thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoy the fic!

He moves into the house across the street the summer of 1976. He remembers the feeling of the Pensacola sun on the back of his neck, his father's reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It's a new start Nate," he said in his quiet, firm voice, "your mother would have called it an adventure." 

Nathan remembers the feeling of sweat pouring down his back as he helped his father carry some of the lighter boxes into the new southern style home. His little arms were shaking, his lips pursed and eyes narrowed as if to size up the new living space. Without his mother, without the familiarity of the open plains around him, this place didn't feel like home. In fact, he barely felt anything at all.

The moving van wouldn't be there for hours, so he spent his time spreading out on the new carpet as if it was a fresh bed of snow, ran his fingers across all the walls, tracing little circles on the doors and on the grain of the staircase handrails. David Miller, perpetually wearing his Navy uniform, made phone calls, and Nathan could hear the pages of the address book flipping over and over again, the wing of his father's voice shifting with each call. His seven year old mind wasn't quite able to wrap around the fact that many things went into a move. They'd moved before, but it had never been this frantic, this slow, this painful (this scary).

Nathan opened every door in the house, ventured inside every closet and room until every corner had been explored. Even the secret closets and the empty  basement that would probably be his and his father's workshop some day had been looked over, studied by his careful, inquisitive eyes. Eventually he sat in what he supposed would be his room, staring at the light blue walls, his hands tucked under his knees. There were two windows, one that looked out over the front door of the house and the other that gave him a view of the house across the street. He got onto his knees, crawling over to it and placing his hands on windowsill. 

The house across the street was similar to this one, a window mirroring his exactly, so much so that if the curtains hadn't been closed, he could see right into the room. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the other homes until his eyes came to rest on the hulking van that was slowly making it's way up the street. 

"Dad!" he called, quickly pushing off the windowsill and running to the stairs. His father peered up at him through the doorway in the kitchen, still on the phone. He smiled, nodding for him to get the door. Nathan nodded with a weak smile, jogging down the stairs and opening the door to wave the moving truck into the driveway.

The move went smoothly, but only after the man came to the door and sneered at the little boy waiting for him.

"Oh," he'd growled, peering into the house with a scowl, "so you all are--" 

David Miller quickly saved the day, rushing to the door and shaking the man's hand with fervor, "Hello sir," he'd greeted, pushing Nathan into the house and walking out to help the group of men who were already struggling to unload their furniture. Even with his uniform on, the man looked on at David with a hint of distrust and confusion, but began the process anyway, barking out orders to his men.

Nathan did his best to help, carrying lamps and various lightweight items, but his father quickly could see how nervous he was, especially when night fell and people sat on their front porches to watch. Nathan felt like they were judging them, just like many of the other white families had when they'd moved to Iowa the year before. David could sense the discomfort, and quickly tasked his son with rearranging tables and chairs, as well as making a grocery list and deciding what they'd be eating for dinner. 

After the van had left, it was already nine o'clock and most of the spectators had gone inside for the night. Nathan couldn't help but to notice that no one in the house across the street has come out to see the show, but the lights were on and people were moving inside. His father's voice called him from his trance. 

"You were supposed to put actual foods on the list, Junior," he said, scratching off a few items with his pencil. Nathan leaned over the counter, grinning at his list, "Not just Oreos and Cola," he playfully punched his son's shoulder and Nathan giggled, flipping the page over and pointing. 

"I got baloney and cheese on there," he said, "and bread-- and ice cream. Those are important." He looked up to his father who was already staring down at him, an odd look in his eyes. Someday, Nathan would come to know that it was a look of adoration, of pride, of love. Then he thought his dad was just being funny. 

"Come on," he said, nodding toward the door and grabbing his keys, "let's go get some pizza and we can do groceries tomorrow."

Nathan nodded, rushing to put on his sneakers as his father locked up the house.

* * *

 

It was never hard to sleep in new places; After all, it was the same bed, just a different house. But it was hard to fall asleep that night. His eyes were blown wide open, even when he heard his father's snores from across the hall, a sound that usually put him straight to sleep. He was all tucked in, and his father even having taken the time to dig out his favorite starship blankets for him to be comfortable, but something wasn't right. 

He turned his body towards the window, eyes trained on the moon that was hanging in the sky just above the house across the street. But another light caught his eye, a flickering one coming from behind the curtains in the window just across from his. His brow furrowed and he moved closer to the window, so close his forehead bumped against the glass. After a few minutes, the seemingly random flickering ceased, and the house went dark. He slumped back into the bed, curling into his covers and squeezing his eyes shut. He hoped they wouldn't stay here long; He hoped his father would be moved somewhere else, somewhere not so strange, not so quiet. 

He meets Monty the next day. He's seven years old and Monty is eight, giving Jasper a huge head start in the best friend competition, especially since the two had practically known each other since birth. It's a catchup game from the start, but Nathan likes a challenge. He just doesn't know it when he first sees the other boy.

The next morning he woke to the sound of someone softly rapping on the front door. He stumbled downstairs, bleary eyed and still in his blue cotton pajamas. His father was already awake, walking to the door and looking through the window before carefully opening the door with a hesitant smile. 

"Hello," he heard a sweet, feminine voice on the other side of the door as he joins his father in the door war, placing a hand on the door and looking up at the woman standing there. He didn't have to lift his head very far, she's such a small woman her head only came up to his father's chest. He frowned, giving her a once over. He can already tell his father is uncomfortable, especially since she wasn't white or black like any of their other neighbors. She was Asian, her inky black hair cut short and her smile broad. 

"What can I do for you, ma'am?" his father answered, leaning into the door. Nathan noticed some movement behind her, and his eyes immediately caught on the little person standing behind her legs. He stepped closer, and his eyes grew wide when the face of a little boy appeared from behind her, his eyes wary and hands gripping the fabric of the woman's dress. 

"Montgomery," the woman said, placing one hand on the top of the boy's head, "why don't you say hello?" she asked. Her eyes moved from her son to David, "I just wanted to give you these," she pushes forward a plastic plate with pile of cookies on top. David's brows raised as he accepted the gift with a smile and a nod. 

"Thank you ma'am," he said, handing the plate to Nathan, who was having a staring contest with the boy hiding behind his mother's legs, "I'm David, David Miller," he reached to shake her hand, a gesture she returned with a smile. 

"I'm Hannah," she replied, "Hannah Green," she glanced down at her son, "this is Monty, my son, and my husband is at work today. He works on an orange farm," she said proudly, placing her hand on her sons back and looking down at him, "Montgomery, why don't you introduce yourself?" 

The boy just shifted further behind his mother. David spoke up, "That's okay, I'm sure Nathan and Monty will meet at school in a few weeks," David placed his hand on Nathan's back, "We really appreciate the gift, Mrs. Green, let us know if we can ever do anything for you." 

She nodded, bowing her head slightly, "You're welcome! It was my pleasure. And Nathan is welcome to come over and play with Monty and his friend later today if he wants!" 

Nathan felt his stomach churning, but he mustered up a grin and stole one last look at the other boy before his father closed the door with a sigh. 

"That was very nice of them." It was a familiar response. People always brought food over when they moved into a new house, especially when they were nosey enough to discover that there wasn't woman in the house.  Nathan nodded quietly to himself, making his way to the kitchen and pushing the cookies onto the counter. David removed the plastic wrap over the cookies and picked one out for himself, taking a bite and nodding approvingly. Nathan attempted to do the same, but got a slap on the back of his hand. 

"Go upstairs and brush your teeth, get dressed," his dad said through a mouthful of cookie, "We're going to the store in a few. Then we need to start unpacking all these boxes. Nathan pouted at his father, but obediently ran upstairs and donned a collared shirt and black trousers, glancing through his window to see the curtains had been pulled back in the window of the other house. His father called his name, but he kept looking, watching as a familiar boy played with legos in the floor of his bedroom just across the street. If he looked up now, their eyes would meet. 

Nathan swallowed and rushed downstairs, finding his father shoving another cookie in his mouth with a laugh. 

* * *

 

He doesn't play in the yard with Monty and the other boy that day, or even in the days that follow. He preferred to stay inside and look at the car magazines his father had had from the 50's or listen to their radio. David Miller began to get nervous. The more Nathan was inside, the more he was agitated. He didn't have to report until the following Monday, but he had work to do, and worrying about his son was already a loud constant in his life. The additional stress of his son suddenly becoming antisocial was not helping. 

"Why don't you go play with... er-- Morrey," 

"Monty," Nathan corrected, not bothering to glance up from the magazine. 

David ran his hands over his face with a grumble, "Yes, Monty. He and his friend are outside drawing on the sidewalk. Why don't you go ask to play with them?" 

"I dunno," he responded, quieter than before. 

"Nathan," his father said, voice tired, "you need to go get some sunshine, some fresh air," Nathan looked up, "just give me one hour. One hour outside and I won't bother you again... today." 

Nathan rolled his eyes and got up, tossing the magazine on the couch and stomping to the door. His father gave a laugh, turning back to the stacks of paper in front of him, "Thank you, bud," he called as Nathan ventured out the door. Nathan frowned as he closed the door behind him and he began to walk around the house. When he turned the corner he was greeted with the sight that he expected to find. Monty was giggling, sucking on a popsicle as he sat in the driveway as his friend drew boxes on the concrete with chalk. 

He walked over to them slowly, and Monty noticed him first. He watched Monty's face grow red and his body tense up as he got closer. The dark haired white boy didn't notice his presence until he was standing over him, eyes on the crooked hopscotch drawing. 

"Oh!" the boy looked up, "You must be the guy who just moved here!" he exclaimed, standing on wobbly legs. Nathan nodded slowly, his arms crossed behind his back, eyes studying the other boy's long nose and soggy eyes. 

"I'm Nathan," he explained, gaze shifting to watch Monty stand, red popsicle syrup dripping on his hand. 

"I'm Jasper. Do you wanna play with us?" he asked, and Nathan nodded again, now noticing the light sunburn across Jasper's cheeks. 

"I'm setting up hopscotch now. We play it so that when you make it to the end you have to stand on one leg and try to pick pennies off the ground, one at a time. When you get one, you have to hop all the way back to the beginning and put it on the ground, then go back for the rest. If you get them all without falling you win." 

Nathan nodded, watching Monty finish off his popsicle but keeping a watchful eye on the new boy. 

"Monty's really good at it," Jasper explained, jumping to the front of the drawing and beginning his journey of hops. Nathan watches as he makes it to the end, picking up a penny even though he almost loses his balance, and making it all the way back. 

Monty eventually came and stood closer, crossing his arms across his chest as Jasper got worse and worse at keeping his balance. A few pennies later, Jasper trips and falls, giggling even though he scrapes his knees on the concrete. Monty giggles too, and Nathan watches with a smile. 

"My turn!" Monty squeals, playfully shoving Jasper out of the way. 

"I got four. See if you can get more than that." 

Monty scoffed, hopping with ease across each of the squares, "I'm gonna get ten!" 

Nathan continued to watch, and just like he had said, Monty got ten pennies, and when he was done he lifted his hands in victory, Jasper screaming in excitement as he took a bow. Nathan looked between them, seeing years of playtime together, years of bonding, years of togetherness. He felt jealousy pinching the pit of his stomach, but instead of saying anything, he got to the starting line and began to jump. 

Jasper ooh'd and ah'd as Nathan jumped with expert precision, almost as smoothly as Monty. Nathan beamed with pride with every successful trip, back and forth between the pennies and the starting line. Monty was watching with eyes filled with wonder, jaw slack in surprise. When he got to the tenth penny, he started to laugh, his chest almost bursting. Jasper screeched too, and Monty put his hands on his face, shocked that his record was about to be beaten. 

He trips, though, on the last square, and the boys started to cackle. Jasper fell into the grass from laughing too hard, and Nathan feels tears welling in his eyes. He placed his hands on the ground, about to pick himself up, until he saw Monty's hand extended to pull him up. "You did great, Nate!" Monty said with a sweet smile, eyes alight with joy. Nathan felt his anger disappear, taking Monty's hand and standing up. He checked to make sure he didn't have any scratches, then looked to Jasper who was still rolling in the grass. 

Nathan wondered if Jasper had a mother, because he knew if he had come home with that many stains on his clothes when his own mother was alive, he'd never see the light of day again. 

"Shut up," Nathan said, but the laughter was contagious. All three of them giggled until Jasper popped up from the ground and screamed, "TAG! MONTY'S IT!" and the three of them ran off in different directions. 

Nathan didn't stumble home until the street lights turned on, panting loudly with a broad smile on his face. 

"Did you have fun, kid?" his dad asked, stirring something in a pot at the stove. Nathan walked into the kitchen, moving to the sink to wash his hands. 

"Yeah Dad," he said, "Monty's so funny. He can run really fast and he has a ton of model trucks. He told me all about them, and Jasper said he has some too. He lives a few blocks away and he has cats. Monty is allergic to cats--" 

"Okay, Tiger, let's slow down," David said with a laugh, "go sit down. You can tell me all about it over dinner." 

Nathan nodded, wiping his hands on a towel and skipping over to the table and plopping into a chair before his mouth opened again, reciting all of the things the other boys had told him that day. 

Over the next two months, Nathan played with the other two boys almost every day right up until dinner. Dinner with the Greens became a weekly treat, and sometimes his father even tagged along if he wasn't too busy or tired from the day of work on the base. Nathan could tell his father didn't really like Mr. Green. He was a stern white man who had a loud voice and big hands, but he never said anything that really made anyone mad, just talked loudly and didn't ask very many questions. Jasper was always there, even though sometimes he really got on Nathan's nerves, and always took the seat right next to Monty even though that's where Nathan wanted to be. 

Two days before before school started, Nathan ran over to Monty's house to play late in the afternoon, but no one was outside. He hesitantly knocked on the door, looking around to make sure it wasn't some kind of prank. Mrs. Green answered the door with a smile and a laugh. "Hello Nathan! Monty's upstairs. Jasper has a fever and won't be coming over today. Do you want to go up? You're welcome to stay for dinner tonight. I'm making mac n cheese!" He nodded and stepped inside the house, making his way to the stairs and smiling at her. 

"Thank you Mrs. Green! I'll ask my dad later." 

With that, he bolted up the stairs to Monty's room. Although he'd never actually been there, he knew exactly where it was. The door was closed, but he didn't bother to knock, slowly grabbing the doorknob and pushing the door open with a grin. Monty looked up from his legos, surprised to see his friend. 

"Nate," he said, and Nathan felt his chest tighten-- no one called him that except Monty. It was a special nickname, one that he treasured. 

"Is it okay to play with you today?" he asked, even though he knew what the answer would be. Monty nodded cheerfully, crossing his legs and picking up what looked like a lego car. 

"Jasper's sick and it's extra hot today so I wanted to play indoors," he said as Nathan turned, looking all around the room. The walls were dark blue, as well as the ceiling, and there were glow in the dark stars stuck to the wall above his headboard, a poster of The Beatles hanging next to the door.

Nathan plopped down, grinning at his friend and picking out all the yellow legos. After a few hours of quiet lego building, Monty started to ask questions. It was almost out of character, but Nathan figured he hadn't asked them before because Jasper was around and doing most of the talking. 

"So where did you live before?"

"Iowa," he answered, crushing his lego house with a snort of laughter, "it was bad but it snowed." 

"It doesn't snow here," Monty said with a pout, concentrated on his own lego house, "Did you haves lots of friends there?" he asked. 

Nathan shrugged, frowning, "Not really. I had lots of friends in Chicago. In Iowa it's mostly white people who don't like people like me..." 

Monty glanced up, his brows furrowed and a scowl on his face. "I like you." he said. Nathan's cheeks got hot. 

"You're not white," he said. 

"I'm half." 

"You don't count because you're my friend," Nathan said, slowly pushing around the plastic pieces. 

"Oh," Monty replied quietly. Both of them went still, the air in the room growing tense. "Do you know morse code?" 

Nathan's head picked up. "What's that?"

* * *

 

School was uneventful. It's the same as always. The older kids were mean, the white people either scowled at him or absolutely adored him. The teacher made him stand up and introduce himself in front of the class, and he hated every minute. He liked math, but the class was at a  slower pace than he usually liked. Monty was in his class, and so was Jasper, but they sat in alphabetical order so Nathan barely spoke to either of them until recess. 

The days passed quickly, especially when there was no homework and the boys could play in the yard. Eventually a boy named Bellamy and his little sister Octavia started coming over to play after school, and sometimes Wells and Clarke, two kids who lived in the poorer side of the neighborhood with Lincoln, Sterling, and a smaller boy named Atom, would play kick the can with the rest of them if it was dark out. 

Nathan became accustomed to the place, to the people. He started to like it there, especially with Monty around. Even though Monty had a best friend already, Miller considered Monty his best friend. He told him all about his old homes, his mom when she was alive, the dogs they had in their backyard back in Iowa and the neighbors they had when he was a baby and could barely remember anything. Monty was the best friend he'd ever had, and living across the street from him was the best gift he could have ever received. 

When Monty got walkie talkies for Christmas, he gave one to Nathan so they could call each other whenever they wanted to play. Jasper was jealous, but Monty insisted his house was out of range and that they would never play hopscotch or tag without him. 

When Miller finally learned Morse Code, he used his father's flashlight and flashed messages to Monty about homework and how icky the girls were in class. He could almost imagine Monty's laugh whenever he made a funny joke. Sometimes David would get angry at him for staying up so late, but he could tell his dad was happy he'd found a friend.

* * *

 

He first hears the word "homosexual" in 1982. It was a few days after his 12th birthday and he was at Monty's house for dinner. David was asleep at home after a long day, and Nathan was planning on staying after dinner to hang with Monty, but after Mr. Green's outburst, he wasn't quite sure he wanted to stick around. 

"They're everywhere, Hannah," he says through a mouthful of meatloaf, "they had a rally in Miami! A small one, thank God, but they're there!" Mrs. Green was very quiet, eating her dinner in small bites and closing her eyes as if she wanted to block out her husband's words. Monty sat across the table from Nathan, his hands in his lap and his eyes glazed over. Nathan kicks his shin to bring his attention back to the present. 

Monty looked startled, giving Nathan a look of appreciation as he began to eat again. Nathan quirked his brow, but continued to eat and listen to Mr. Green ranting. 

"It's disgusting, unnatural," he continued, and Nathan just nodded even though he wasn't quite sure what the word even meant. After that he gets quiet, turning the conversation to the stats on the local baseball team. Nathan recited them by heart, and Mr. Green looked pleased. He nudged Monty's shoulder, "Hey, why don't you and Nathan go to a game some time," Monty forced a smile and a nod, "you play ball, right Nathan?" 

Nathan nodded slowly, glancing at his friend with concern but answering the older man's question, "Yessir.  Well-- I play hockey but I'm on the football team. Mostly a bench warmer..." 

After cleaning the dishes together quietly (While Mr. Green had a smoke outside and Mrs. Green read one of her romance books), Miller let Monty lead him upstairs to his room. Once the door closed, he let out a long sigh of relief. "God, your dad was being weird--" 

"Nate." Monty said, his voice flat. Instantly Nathan knew something was wrong. 

"You okay?" he asked, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. Monty couldn't look him in the eye. 

"Do you kn-know what it means?" he asked, his fingers interlocking and twisting together. Nathan frowned. 

"Uh-- what? What does what mean?"

"H-Hom-" 

"Homosexual?" he asked. Monty froze. 

"Y-yeah." 

Nathan pulled his hand away, slowly moving to sit on the bed. "Not really. I mean, I know it's like the same thing as queer. It's like, a boy marrying another boy, right?" 

Monty didn't say anything, only sat down on the floor and laid down on the carpet. His arms spread wide, his eyes wide, staring up at the old glow in the dark stars. 

"Yeah. Instead of liking girls, you like boys." 

Nathan nodded, watching Monty carefully. Monty was different than he used to be. His hair was longer, shinier, his face was slimmer, body lean but muscular, legs still scrawny as ever. He was slightly taller than Nathan, but he knew he'd be taller when they got older-- David Miller and his mother had both been tall, while Monty's mother was short. He blinked. Something was really bothering his friend. 

"Monty..." 

"Have you ever liked a girl, Nate?" he asked, not looking at his friend. Nathan swallowed, turning his head to look out the window. He could see his house, his bedroom. All the lights were off except the one in his room. His father must be asleep for the night. 

"No... I don't think so." 

Monty didn't move. 

"I mean- maybe back in Chicago when I was little. I remember my dad making fun of me and calling her my girlfriend, but that's it." 

Monty just nodded. Nathan didn't ask him back. Deep inside, he didn't really want to know. If Monty liked a girl, it would mean that they wouldn't be together all the time, wouldn't play video games or watch TV every Saturday. It would mean that he'd have to find a new best friend. He frowned. 

"I think I should get home. My dad's probably wondering where I am." 

Monty peeled himself off the ground and led Nathan out, waving to him with a weak grin as he ran across the street and into his house. An hour later, tucked in bed, he heard the crackle of the walkie talkie. He reached for it, pulling it close to his ear and glancing out the window. The house across the street was dark. 

"Nate?" he heard.

"Yeah," he replied, trying to keep his voice low.

"Do you think it's unnatural?"

Nathan paused, thinking for a moment, trying to figure out what Monty's talking about. Then he remembered. His brows knitted, his lips curled in confusion. He took a while to reply. "No. It's just kinda weird I guess." 

There wasn't a reply for a long time. "Okay. Goodnight." he heard. Monty's voice seemed quieter, almost defeated. 

"Monty." he said, desperate to get his friend back on the line. He heard a crackly reply. "You're still my best friend no matter what." 

There was silence. 

"You too, Nate."

* * *

 

It's a few years before Nathan understands the weight of the conversation they had that night. It's 1985 before he hears the word again. 

"Dad and Mom won't be back for a few hours," Monty said as they climbed the stairs to his room. Nathan nodded, shrugging his leather jacket off and tossing it over his shoulder, "so in a bit we can go for a drive maybe," he glanced over his shoulder. Nathan already had a wicked grin on his face.

"Oh  _ hell _ yes," he laughed, feeling the hard metal of his keys practically burning a hole in his pocket. He'd received a used 1978 Chevy pickup for his seventeenth birthday, but was still forbidden from driving anyone around in it yet. He was only allowed to take it to the store and drive his father around on the weekends.

As they walked down the hall, Nathan could see Monty's grin (and maybe he was imagining it, but he swore he could see his cheeks getting red). He followed his friend into the room, tossing his jacket on Monty's desk chair and pulled it out in front of him, spreading his legs and sitting in it, arms rested on the back. Monty flopped onto the bed, reaching for the Rubik's cube on his bedside table and twisting it around in his hand. 

"So where's Jasper?" Nathan asked, looking down at his hands as Monty pulled his legs up onto the bed. 

It took him a while to answer. "He's with Maya. Probably boinking in her car." 

Jasper's new girlfriend was the talk of the town. Maya Vie had moved here from New Mexico a few months ago, and Jasper had instantly fallen in love. This fact wouldn't have really mattered if he hadn't immediately started pretending to be cool, calling Harper "low hanging fruit" for asking him to homecoming, and ditching Monty every chance he got to hang out with her. Thinking of the two of them even being around each other was enough to elicit a groan from anyone who knew the couple. Nathan gagged, throwing his head back and spinning in the chair. "They're so..." 

"Yeah." Monty cut him off. The room went silent and Nathan kept spinning. His eyes scanned the walls and the ceiling, noticing how much the room had changed. The Beatles poster was replaced by a John Lennon portrait and a ripped David Bowie album cover. The stars on the ceiling were long gone, but the paint where they had once been was chipped away. Nathan thought the chips reflected real stars more than those childish toys ever would. 

"So are you taking Harper to prom?" Nathan asked, spinning in the chair again. The clicking of the Rubik's Cube stopped. 

"I don't think I'm going to prom..." 

"Why not?"

"I dunno." 

"That's a dumb reason." Nathan stopped spinning, closing his eyes as his head whirred. 

"Dizzy?" Monty chuckled, sitting up in his bed and placing the Rubik's cube back on the bedside table. When Nathan opened his eyes, he saw that it was completely solved. A frown fell over his face. 

"I wish I was as smart as you." 

Monty didn't look at him. His face lit up in a smile, his legs kicking back and forth over the side of the bed. 

"I'm serious, Mont," he said, standing and grabbing the cube from the table, plopping down on the ground and mixing up the squares. He crossed his legs under him, narrowing his brows at the toy in his hand. 

"I know." he replied quietly, kicking Nathan's knees gently with the toes of his shoes. His voice got quieter. "I got a letter from Yale and Harvard the other day. They saw my scores and wanted me to come visit." Nathan looked up, brows shooting upwards. 

"Monty-- that's amazing!" 

"Dad said I can go if I don't get detention between now and then," 

Nathan grabbed Monty's ankle mid swing, bringing the older boy's attention to him, "You better not get in trouble," he said in a stern voice, "this is a big deal." Monty rolled his eyes, trying to tug his leg out of his friend's grip. "I'm still out here waiting for a scholarship for my mediocre football skills... I'm serious Mont, you're going to be so successful, and if you keep getting in trouble--" 

"Okay, okay, okay," Monty said, letting his leg go limp as he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his thighs and staring down at his friend. "It's just fucking Dr. Griffin. She always has hall duty when Jasper and I are on the roof. And don't act like you've never gotten in trouble for stealing--" 

Nathan scoffed, ignoring the last comment intentionally. Stealing was just a bad habit, and his father and him had discussed it long ago. He huffed, setting the cube to the side and letting go of Monty's leg. "You guys get high way too often--" 

"She's never caught us smoking weed, dipstick," Monty said lightheartedly, "just cigs." 

"Still," Nathan said, standing and brushing himself off. Monty stood too, wavering on his feet, leaning in close and then pulling away. Nathan can smell of the cigarette smoke on his clothes now. It's faint, but present. The sweet scent of marijuana is there too, but even fainter, masked by the cologne he's wearing that smells too much like his father to suit him. Nathan felt his stomach churning and his head getting light. In an attempt to regain stability, he stepped away, grabbing his coat and throwing open the door. "Come on, 'going for a drive." 

Monty smiled, reaching for his own jacket and jogging to catch up to Nathan. 

They made their way downstairs and across the street, hopping into Nathan's truck with a laugh. He started the car, placing his hand on the back of the passenger seat, his hand brushing over Monty's shoulder on the way. He tried to stifle the shiver that ran down his spine as he looked over his shoulder, backing the car out of the driveway and into the street. When both of his hands were back on the steering wheel, he glanced over to Monty whose window was already down, his hair billowing in the breeze. 

Nathan smiled, turning his attention back to the road. 

There was something about the city at night. The lights were brighter, the neon colors louder, the people were faded like figures in a painting. The truck's rumbling engine pierced the air, and all around them stores and strip malls closed, people walked back to their houses for the end of the day. Somewhere in the sky, the day blurred into the night. 

"So are you taking Raven to prom?" Monty asked, voice raised over the roar of the engine. 

"Depends," he said back, turning the corner towards the freeway. 

"On what?" Monty said. His voice sounded strained. Nathan glanced over again, seeing Monty's forehead resting on the car door, his eyes closed against the wind. Nathan felt his heart beating faster, not quite understanding why. 

He'd felt this way for a while, always nervous around Monty, always looking out for him. The behavior was odd at first, but with Jasper being gone all the time, everyone saw Nathan as Monty's protector and didn't question his attachment to the other boy. Nathan had never felt this close to another person, especially since he'd never been around long enough to feel this way. Inside he was thankful that his father had been removed from the active duty list, even if it meant David Miller was grumpier and wasn't able to be a workaholic like he wanted to be.

"She might go with Bellamy." he replied finally, biting his lip. Raven had been the closest he'd ever been to having a girlfriend. They hung out all the time, bumped into each other, fought, sat together at lunch, even went out a few times. But he never had any feelings for her, and it was clear that she was more interested in their friendship than having anything more. (More... Nathan wasn't even sure what that meant.)

"What?" Monty's head picked up, "I thought she was for sure going with you-- and Bellamy asked Clarke?" 

"Yeah but Clarke said she wants to go with her friends, Niylah maybe? And Lexa." 

"Lexa would have a cow if Clarke didn't go with her, I guess." Monty responded, but Nathan barely heard him over the truck's engine. They sped faster down the freeway, onto open roads. Not a single car was in sight. 

"Aren't they like... gal pals?" Nathan asked hesitantly. Monty froze, inhaling sharply. Nathan knew Monty never liked to talk about that kind of thing, but he had wanted to ask that since he'd seen them holding hands on the way to the bus a few months ago. 

"I mean... I guess..." 

"Never mind," Nathan said, pulling off to the right towards the next exit and turning left to get back on. He suddenly felt uncomfortable, his skin crawling and his palms hot. Monty shifted in his seat. 

"Wait we're going back?" he asked, surprised. 

"Yeah, it's hard to talk when I can't hear you." he said as an excuse. Really he just wanted to go home, go home and try to bury the feelings he was hiding deep, deep in his chest. Away from the world, from his best friend. 

"What do you wanna talk about?" Monty asked, furrowing his brow. Nathan stopped at the light, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. He heard Monty rolling up the window. His lip worried between his teeth, his heart rate accelerating. 

"Nothing, I guess." 

"Nothing sounds serious." he remarked, putting his feet up on the dash, tucking his knees to his chest. Before the light turned green Nathan swatted his feet away. The sky was completely dark now, the moon was blurred behind a cluster of clouds. He frowned, turning back onto the freeway towards town. "So what?" Monty asked, nudging Nathan with his elbow, "Are you good?" 

"Yeah," he said weakly, keeping his gaze on the road. His heart beat faster and faster, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. 

"Is Bellamy on your nerves again?" Monty asked,crossing his arms. Nathan shook his head. "Raven ditch you for Finn? You know they're still broken up, right? After him and--" 

"No." 

"Oh." 

Monty paused. He picked at his nails, then turned to Nathan, staring at him with narrowed eyes (it was like he was concentrating). Nathan felt Monty's gaze hot on his face. Nathan had always been a good liar, but never to Monty. 

"Do you want to go to Pike's?" he asked tentatively. Nathan felt a smile prick the corners of his lips. Monty nudged his shoulder again with a laugh. "It always makes you un-grumpy." 

"Nah," he said, the hard line of his lips cracking into a wide grin, "I already ate. Maybe Saturday after practice. We can go together." The words were warm coming out of his mouth. His tongue ran over his bottom lip as he drove, accelerating the car. Monty giggled, rolling down his window again and sticking his hand in the wind. 

"It's a date." Monty said casually, but it made Nathan's chest seize up. He could barely breathe, even with the air rushing through his car. 

"Yeah?" Nathan asked, eyes moving to meet Monty's gaze. The other boy's face was already tomato red, his eyes wide in realization. 

"I didn't--" 

Nathan turned the car off onto their street, his face hot. 

(It had all started a few summers ago. They were at a party Octavia had insisted that they play spin the bottle. Jasper was obviously high, giggling and putting his hands on everyone's shoulders. When he sat, it was between Nathan and Monty, Nathan growling in disappointment. Jasper spun first, and the neck pointed to Harper. She pecked his lips and he screamed in laughter. Monty had to hold him down. Then it was Monty's turn. He spun hesitantly, cheered on by Raven. The bottle landed on Nathan. The room got quiet, and Bellamy cackled. Monty looked at Nathan with fearful eyes, reaching towards the bottle again. Nathan's eyes were locked on his. He heard the bottle spinning again before he saw it. It landed on Octavia. Everyone laughed. They had already forgotten the moment, but it lingered on Nathan's mind for weeks. The way Monty looked at him, the way the rest of them grew quiet, the way his heart sank in disappointment when Monty turned away.  _ Disappointed _ .) 

He pulled into the Gulf parking lot, parking in the farthest spot from the closed gas station and laughing wildly. He turned the car off, pressing his forehead to the steering wheel. Monty punched his shoulder. 

"Shut up!" he whined, beating his shoulder with both fists. 

"That doesn't seem too bad," Nathan whispered boldly, turning his head so his temple rested against the steering wheel. His hands slid down slowly, resting in his lap. Monty went quiet, his hands settling on his knees. His smile disappeared, his eyes softening. The world was quiet, the cool winter air drifting in through the window. Nathan swallowed. 

"A date?" Monty breathed back. Nathan's chest felt like it was going to explode. His hands were sweating, his hands trembling. 

"Yeah," he said, picking his head up, maintaining eye contact with Monty, "like... with you." 

Monty's face went blank. Nathan couldn't read his emotions at all, and it scared him. He'd always been able to understand what Monty was going through, what he was thinking, better than Jasper, sometimes. They could say anything they wanted just with their eyes. Nathan quickly reached for the keys, an attempt to turn the car on again. He'd said the wrong thing, this was all wrong-- Monty liked him like he liked every other friend, there wasn't something different going on here. (In his mind he heard Mr. Green's booming voice, 

"Nate," Monty huffed, placing his hand on Nathan's, tugging it toward him. The touch was electrifying, sending chills all down Nathan's body. Nathan jerked his head to the side, giving Monty a panicked look. Monty held his hand tightly, his hand warm and soft beneath Nathan's calloused, dry fingers. Monty pulled his arm towards him, his hand snaking upwards to tug at his shirt. It was all in slow motion, Monty's hand burrowed in the collar of his sweater, the space between them growing smaller and smaller. Their noses brushed, only the console separating them. Nathan's eyes flicked from Monty's lips and his eyes. Both of their breaths were shallow, their bodies shaking in anticipation. Nathan let his eyelids flutter closed as he pushed forward, pressing his lips against Monty's for the first time. 

Nathan had kissed people before. He'd kissed his mother on the cheek, his father's head, Harper in middle school, a girl from the other high school during spin the bottle, and even Raven, but none of those compared to this kiss. It was the first time there was feeling behind it, the first time he was in love with the person he was kissing. 

His hand snaked upwards, brushing against Monty's jaw he deepened the kiss, fingers moving to cradle the back of his head. Nathan pressed forward, tilting his head and moving his jaw. He could feel Monty's tongue sliding between his lips into his mouth. Monty's hand slipped from Nathan's collar, moving downwards until he was pushing up the hem of his shirt. Nathan shivered when Monty's cold hand traveled from his navel to his chest, whimpering when Monty's other hand came to rest on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Nathan pulled his hand away to unbuckle the seatbelt as Monty moaned quietly into his mouth.

He'd never felt so alive, never felt so in love (if that's what this was-- and even if it wasn't, the name felt right, it felt good to think he was in love with Monty). 

He jerked up on the belt, but it wouldn't give, so he turned his head, breaking the kiss to glare at the broken buckle. Monty flopped back into the passenger seat, his hands now covering his face. Nathan felt his body go still as he looked at him, felt his entire face on fire. 

"So does that mean--"

"Wait you--

They spoke at the same time, stopping each other. Monty nodded, meaning Nathan should speak first. He didn't think he could muster up the right words. His hands had stopped shaking, but the anxious feeling in his chest had returned.

"So you... like me too." It was a statement despite his intention to pose it as a question. Monty's eyes widened slightly, and he began to laugh.

"Are you kidding?" he asked, his hands falling to grasp at his stomach. His shoulder shook with laughter.

"No..." Nathan responded, his hand covering his mouth. His lips still felt tingly, his tongue already missing Monty's. He bit his lip to try to relive the other's taste.

"Nate," Monty moved quickly, taking Nathan's face in his hands and pulling him close, "Yes. For so long. So, so long."

"And does Jasper know?" Nathan blurted, feeling Monty's grip on his face slacken.

The other boy frowned, "Yes. He's known for a while."

"That you..."

"That I'm...?"

"A homosexual?" he asked. He wanted to take it back as soon as it hit the air. Monty's smile turned bittersweet.

"You can just say gay, Nate."

"So you're gay?" he asked, reaching up slowly and taking Monty's hands in his. Monty nodded, intertwining his fingers with Nathan's.

"And you too?" Monty asked.

"I-- I--" he stuttered, frowning, "I think so..."

Monty pursed his lips, cocking his head slightly. Nathan inhaled, "I just know that I... really like you." Monty's face lit up again. He leaned forward, burying his face in the junction between Nathan's neck and shoulder. His breath was warm as it drifted down his back. Nathan pressed his cheek to Monty's head, closing his eyes. 

"They hate us." Monty breathed, his hands tensing. 

Nathan's heart dropped. "They" was complicated, he began to think. The ominous "they" was the outside world. Outside this car, outside this conversation, outside this moment. His throat felt like it was closing up. He licked his lips nervously, inhaling Monty's smell, trying to stay calm. He thought about Mr. Green. If Monty's father knew, he'd kill him. Then his thoughts drifted to his own father, the man who'd preached 'black power' and rallied for peace even when he was enlisted. Still, there was doubt. Still, he feared if David Miller knew, things would change. Everything would change. 

It was already changing. 

"I love you," Nathan whispered into Monty's hair, his hand making slow circles on Monty's back. The other boy pulled away, pressing his forehead to Nathan's softly with closed eyes. 

"I love you too." Monty breathed, opening his eyes. Nathan stared into his deep brown eyes, and he could swear he could see Monty's soul. All the conflict, the sadness, the joy. Nathan kissed him again, hard and long, his hands caressing Monty's jaw lightly, holding the two of them together. They broke apart, breathless. 

"It's dark... we should head back." 

"It hasn't been very long--" 

"Your parents might be out late, but my dad's getting home from work soon." 

Monty smiled, pecking his lips once more before settling back in his seat. 

Nathan couldn't contain his grin, starting the car and driving forward. The ride back was silent, but halfway through, Monty reached across and placed his hand on Nathan's thigh, using the touch to keep them connected. 

* * *

It was hard not to stare in class, reach for his hand, lean in close to whisper something in his ear to make him shiver. It was hard to pretend that nothing had changed when his whole world had shifted on its axis.

Weeks passed with the only connection between them being the walk to the parking lot after school, or making jokes about Jasper and Maya at the lunch table. Bellamy would put his hands on Monty’s shoulder’s and Nathan would feel a growl deep in his throat, Octavia would wrap her arms around Monty in a bear hug and Nathan would feel his lungs imploding. It was the same for Monty; Nathan caught him shooting jealous glares at Bellamy and Wells when the three of them headed off to practice together. It was comforting, in an odd way, that Monty felt the same way that Nathan did, that they both understood what was at stake if they were found out. 

Homecoming came and went, though not as smoothly as anyone wanted it to be. Nathan did end up going with Raven after a fallout between her and Clarke which evidently caused a rift between Bellamy and Raven. The two of them dressed to the nines, Raven in a bright red dress and Nathan in a black suit with a red tie to match. David Miller insisted on taking a picture of the two of them on the front step as Monty, Jasper, and Maya watched from afar. David then insisted that Monty and Nathan take a picture together, which sparked a long, panicked look between the two of them. 

Raven stepped away to get in the truck and Monty stepped up beside Nathan for the photo. They exchanged a worried glance, as their hands fumbled by their sides, Nathan unsure of what to do with his arm that was previously around Raven’s waist. He placed one hand on Monty’s shoulder and the other in his pocket, shivering at how warm Monty was under his touch. Monty’s eyes widened as he forced a smile, his own hands in his pockets for the picture. 

“Closer!” David insisted, “You look like Monty just stole your girlfriend,” he laughed to himself, but it only made the two of them more uncomfortable. 

Nathan slid in closer and Monty tilted his head, towards Nathan’s, waiting patiently for this moment to be over. When the flash went off, though, he found that he didn’t want to let go. It was the first physical contact they’d had in weeks. With all the football games on the weekends and the tests being dealt before the end of the semester, neither of them had much time to be alone together. 

He patted Monty’s shoulder with a weak smile, pulling his keys from his pocket and jogging to the truck. As he climbed into the car, David Miller waved and smiled. Beside the man, Monty was staring wide-eyed at the ground, biting the inside of his cheek. 

Nathan swallowed and waved back, turning the key and heading toward the school as fast as he could go without his heart giving out from all the adrenaline.

The dance was wild, but not unlike any other that they’d attended before. Nathan and Raven danced together for a few songs, then separating when Bellamy and Clarke walked in arm and arm. After a quick conversation about “scumbags” and “bimbettes”, Raven moved over to the food line and Nathan scanned the room, looking for the person he actually wanted to be dancing with. He found him standing alone in the shadows, a glass of punch in his hands with a scowl on his face. 

A smile graced Nathan’s lips and he slowly walked over towards Monty, slipping in beside him with a grin on his face. Monty glanced over to Nathan, and his face was immediately bright red. 

“You know it’s spiked, right?” Nathan asked, gesturing to the punch. Monty glanced down, a sour expression on his face. 

“That’s why it tasted so shitty,” he commented, handing it over to Nathan who downed the rest in one swallow. The both of them laughed, barely able to hear each other over the booming music. They glanced at each other for a moment, eyes moving from each other’s blushing faces to the floor and back again like children. Nathan leaned closer, brushing his shoulder against Monty’s. 

“I miss you,” he said. Monty couldn’t quite hear him, but he knew what he said. The smaller boy licked his lips, turning his face to hide his blush. “I wish I could dance with you instead,” he said, leaning in close and talking directly to Monty’s ear. 

Monty picked his head up, looking into Nathan’s eyes and studying his face. His gaze then moved all around the room, finding that no one seemed to be paying attention to them, or even looking in their direction. 

A slow song had started to play, and people were joining their partners in the center of the dance floor. The live band’s cover of “Can’t Fight This Feeling” by REO Speedwagon was blaring through the speakers, and people had already begun to sway to the beat. Nathan scanned the room too, watching for Raven. He caught sight of her dancing in Bellamy’s arms, and then spotted Clarke who stood beside Lexa in the opposite corner of the room. Harper and Monroe, two of his newer friends this year, were comically swinging each other around to the music, laughing as each of them spun and sang along to the words.

Nathan’s heart nearly stopped beating when he felt Monty’s hand slip into his, their fingers intertwining tightly. He hung his head, feeling his lip quivering, his body melting. Monty leaned against him, forcing him to sway to the music, his own mouth moving to sing the words. 

Nathan felt Monty tugging on his hand, and then the touch was broken and Monty was on the move. Nathan glanced around, his heart racing, and followed him through the gym and into the hallway, all the way into the bathroom where he was standing against the wall, a wicked grin on his face. 

Nathan understood the message, quickly turning to the stalls and kicking each of them open, finding that there was no one else there. Behind him he heard the lock on the door click shut and turned to see Monty backed against the door, his pupils blown wide and his chest moving up and down rhythmically. 

He felt his entire body go hot and reached up to loosen his tie around his neck, his steps heavy as he drew nearer and nearer to Monty. Nathan placed his hands into Monty’s, holding them softly as their noses brushed. He lifted Monty’s arms over his head, pressing the backs of his hands against the door as he brushed his lips against Monty’s gently. 

Monty surged upwards into the kiss, and it was like the bubble had popped. Nathan felt his heart soaring, his legs growing weak. His lips trailed down Monty’s cheek, jaw, and neck, teeth grazing his shoulder and collar as he went. 

“Two halves of a whole,” Monty breathed. 

“What?” Nathan asked, breathless. Their eyes met, then their mouths. 

The experience was short lived, however. There was a knock on the door, causing the two of them to fly apart. There was already a hickey forming on Nathan’s chest, and Monty was so out of breath it was hard to even speak to come up with a plan. 

Nathan opened the door to Murphy and Bellamy who quirked a brow at him. He explained Monty was drunk out of his mind and had insisted that he lock the door as he vomited because he was so embarrassed. The two seemed to buy it, though, as soon as Monty flushed the toilet and stumbled out into the bathroom, using Nathan’s shoulder to keep himself steady. 

The pair rushed out of the bathroom and back into the hallway, and as soon as the door was closed again they burst into laughter. They walked back to the dance, and as soon as Raven caught side of Nathan she insisted she was ready to go. Nathan asked Monty if he’d be okay, seeing as Jasper and Maya disappeared a long time ago. He nodded, his happy expression visibly falling. 

“I’ll get a ride from Bellamy or Clarke,” he said, “I’m waiting for them to play Tears for Fears,” he said with a chuckle. Nathan patted his back, letting his hand linger for a moment before he pulled away and escorted Raven to the car, his stomach writhing with uncertainty.

* * *

It was another few weeks before they were alone again. David Nathan was at a retirement ceremony for an officer he served with and was not expected to be back until well past midnight.

Despite his father’s rule (that, so far, was only allowed to be broken for homecoming) to never drive friends in his car, he took Monty to dinner. Monty insisted on paying, after all, he was the only one who actually had a job, and they walked out of the restaurant with broad smiles on their faces. 

The drive back was slow and hesitant. Both of Monty’s parents were out, but they’d be home soon, and both of them wanted to cherish the few moments they had together. 

“Can you walk from my house?” Nathan asked quietly as they drove into the neighborhood. Monty nodded, eyes out the window to watch the last few seconds of the sunset. All around them the world was dark and quiet, secure and safe.

Nathan pulled up to the house, turning the car off and immediately leaning across the console to kiss the other boy and break the tension. Monty returned the kiss with fervor, their noses pressing together, their teeth clacking as their hands wandered up and down each other's bodies. After a moment they broke apart, their eyes locked. Nathan was breathing heavy as he jumped out of the car, moving around to the side to close Monty's door beside him. 

He blinked, and before he could move he was backed against the car door, pressed flush against the cold metal with two hands hiking up his sweater underneath his jacket. Monty smiled against his lips as he made a sound of appreciation, placing his hands on Monty's back and holding him tighter. 

"Where did you learn to--" 

"I read a lot," Monty explained breathlessly, his voice sending shivers down Nathan's spine. 

"Nathan." 

They broke apart like repelling magnets, and before Nathan could even recognize the voice, Monty was a few yards away, his arms crossed against his chest and his eyes wide and innocent. Nathan turned his head, pressing his hands against his car behind him. 

David Miller stood on the porch, his arms crossed with unreadable expression on his face. Nathan felt his heart sink, felt his stomach writhing in his body. His hands were already shaking. His first reaction was to defend Monty.

"Dad he didn't do anything wrong it was me, I was--"

"Nathaniel."  

He went silent. His father turned to Monty. "You should get on home now. Your parents will be home soon, I'm sure." 

Monty looked between Nathan and David, his eyes wide in fear and uncertainty. "Th-thank you Mr. Miller," he whispered, hesitant to leave his friend, "Goodnight Mr. Miller," he looked at Nathan, realizing there was nothing to be done, "Goodnight Nate." 

The two men watched Monty jog across the street and let himself into the house. When the lights turned on, David gestured for Nathan to enter the house. Nathan felt his legs weakening as he followed his father into the house, closing he door behind him and pressing his back against it. All of the beautiful, happy things he was feeling earlier had vanished, replaced by a mix of fear and anger. 

"Dad--" 

"Let me talk." His father turned, staring him down from a few feet away. "I'm disappointed." 

Nathan squeezed his eyes shut. "Dad I'm so sorry--"

"I'm disappointed that you didn't tell me."

He opened his eyes.

"I thought we agreed that we're talk." Nathan felt his heart racing, heard it roaring in his ears, "I thought you promised me we'd talk about things, about life and girls and... and boys." He felt tears welling in his eyes. He hadn't cried in years, in fact, he couldn't even remember the last time he cried. "I'm disappointed in you because you disobeyed my orders," he began again, "you went out with your friend, maybe other friends too, without my permission. You were irresponsible." 

"I know--" 

"Nathan, I'm disappointed for another reason." the two of them were silent. "Look at me." 

Nathan slowly raised his head, bracing himself. There were tears in his father's eyes too. His arms had fallen to his sides, his brows were knitted and his face bearing an expression of sadness and concern. 

"Why are you disappointed, Dad?" he asked quietly. 

"What are you thinking right now?" He replied, shaking his head. Nathan looked to the floor again, curling his fists. 

"I'm thinking... that you're mad. That Monty's dad will kill him and then kill me. I'm thinking you think I'm disgusting, that I'm unnatural, that I deserve to die. That I'm not a real man--" he forced himself to stop.

"I'm disappointed because you don't think I still love you." 

Nathan's head popped up, his eyes following as his father stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. "You're my son, my only son," he said, his voice shaking. In all of his years, Nathan had never seen or heard his father cry, not even when his mother died. "You're my family, my child, my pride and joy," he continued as Nathan's hands hung limp by his sides, "I will love you no matter what, no matter what you are, what you do, what you support, or even who you love. That's my responsibility, to provide for you, to take care of you..." 

"Dad," he breathed, burying his face in his father's shoulder, his arms wrapping around his middle. 

"I love you, Nathan. I won't always be here to protect you, and I want the best for you. I'm here for you," 

"Dad," he said, tears streaming down his face as he hugged his father back, hugged him tighter than he ever had before.

"I never want you to think I don't love you," he said, choking back sobs. 

"Okay," Nathan replied, shaking his head with a laugh, "Okay, I promise I won't, I promise--" 

They stood together for a long time, laughing and crying together. After Nathan felt like he could barely breathe, be pulled away separating the two of them, David's hands still on Nathan's shoulders.

"So... you're queer?" his father asked. 

Nathan wiped his face, nodding. "Yeah, I guess." 

"Okay." his father responded, "And you're... with Monty?" 

Nathan laughed again, "I think so." 

David Miller frowned, pulling his arms away. "If you had to pick, I think that would be the best choice." 

Nathan looked up at his dad with a smile, "I think so too..." 

They paused again, both of their minds full of questions. 

"I want you to be careful," David said carefully, "there's a... sickness, ya know," 

"Dad," Nathan tried to interrupt. 

"I'm just a worried father," he replied, "I'm just telling you... I knew a few boys who got it, and they didn't last very long." 

Nathan nodded, swallowing. His father nodded. 

"Okay, Dad." 

David nodded, punching Nathan's shoulder before turning towards the kitchen. "Go to bed. It's late." 

Nathan nodded, moving to the stairs. When he got to the top of the stairs he called back down. "Dad!" 

"Yeah?" he called back. 

Nathan felt a breath of relief escape him, his body relaxing in one sigh. "Thank you." 

His father moved about downstairs without a reply, but Nathan knew he'd heard him. He smiled, rushing to his room and closing the door. Across the street he saw a flickering in the window-- a call from Monty. 

He picked up a scrap of paper and a pen, then his flashlight, and climbed onto his bed. 

O K ? 

Nathan bit his lip, recognizing the question immediately. He turned on his own flashlight and sent back: 

O K . H E  I S  O K  W I T H  U S . 

There was silence (well, no light) from the other side. Then a quick flash. 

S Y T . I L Y . 

Nathan quirked a brow, recognizing the first pattern as "See you tomorrow" but the second was unknown. He mouthed the letters in his head, writing them out, then realized. He quickly flashed, " I L Y 2 " back and tosses his flashlight to the side, feeling his head go foggy as sleep took over his body.

* * *

 

“We’re going to be late,” Monty moaned, but still not pulling away. Nathan’s hands are holding onto the backs of his knees, his mouth pressing hot kisses against his boyfriend’s (they’d decided that this term was appropriate during winter break when Monty had come over for a sleepover on New Year’s, but neither of them slept very much that night) neck. Monty closed his eyes and leaned his head back, his hands gripping Nathan’s shoulders tightly and his ankles crosses behind Nathan’s thighs. 

“It’s just a party, no one cares that much,” Miler breathed against Monty’s shoulder, feeling the tops of his thighs hitting the edge of the workbench. 

The basement had become their safe space of sorts after getting caught by Nathan’s father. There were no windows there, only workbenches, tools, a couple of deflated footballs, and an outdated video game system. David Miller did not exactly appreciate their choice of hideout, often coming downstairs and keeping an eye on them as they talked and played Pacman. 

This time, though, Nathan’s father was stuck upstairs cooking dinner for a friend of his who’d be coming over later to talk about boring military things. Nathan was in ROTC himself, but could never see himself in his father’s position, especially given his sexuality.

“Bellamy will—“ Nathan gently bit down on Monty’s exposed shoulder, causing the smaller boy to moan even louder. He could already feel Monty’s hips moving to grind against his. His hands snaked up from Monty’s legs to his back, pulling him closer as their lips collided. 

A loud knock on the door interrupted them. Nathan rested in forehead on Monty’s shoulder as the older boy giggled, both of their hands on the table. 

“Yes, Dad?” Nathan called up through a laugh. 

“Kane will be here soon. I need you to and Monty make yourself scarce.” 

Nathan lifted his head and pressed a kiss against Monty’s smiling lips. “Okay!” 

Monty pushed Nathan off of him and jumped down from the bench, tugging on Nathan’s jacket to pull him up the stairs. 

“I hate my dad,” Nathan grumbled jokingly. 

“At least you don’t have my dad,” Monty said, opening the door to the main floor and pulling Nathan behind him. David was in the kitchen, stirring something in a pot, humming to the radio. 

“We’re leaving,” Nathan called, picking up his keys from the table in the foyer and walking to the door. 

“Have fun! Stay safe! Don’t get too crazy!” 

Nathan led Monty out to the car, putting the key in the ignition as Monty’s door slammed behind him. 

“Remember I’m at Jasper’s house tonight,” Monty said as they took off, “Mom and Dad won’t be home until tomorrow.” 

Nathan nodded, turning down a familiar street towards Bellamy’s house. The party was to celebrate the end of senior year. By this time, many of them knew what they were doing after high school, had already been accepted into college, were going places. Monty hadn’t chosen a school yet, and he was sure it was because of him. He’d only gotten a few minor scholarships at a local university, and was unsure about what career he would be pursuing after college. He glanced at Monty as they pulled up to the house. All he knew was that he wanted Monty to be with him, no matter where he went. 

Monty seemed to notice his look and turned his head to return it. “What?” he asked, looking out at the cars lined up on the street. 

“Nothing,” he responded, turning off the car and unbuckling. Monty followed him out of the car and towards the house where music was booming and the smell of cigarettes and weed could already been detected.

A wicked grin appeared on Monty’s face. “Jasper brought the good stuff,” he said, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets and jogging towards the front door. Nathan rolled his eyes and went off in his own direction, looking to find Bellamy and maybe get a beer before they were all gone. 

* * *

He hadn’t seen Monty in a few hours, and after his first beer he had decided one was enough. The people around him were drunk senseless, screaming and playing games he’d never heard of. He’d already bumped into several couples making out in various places and had seen more of some of his classmates than he cared to.

It was a little past midnight before he realized he hadn’t seen Bellamy or Clarke in a while either. When he asked, Monroe had explained they’d gone to get more beer. He thanked her, wandering around the house with a heavy rock of worry in the pit of his stomach.

He looked around again. Jasper and Maya had left hours ago, meaning Monty would probably have to sleep at his house that night. Monty definitely did not want to be in close proximity to the most sexually active couple at the school, especially when one half of the couple was his best friend. 

Then there was a hand tapping his shoulder, calling him away from his thoughts. He turned, seeing a tipsy Harper staring up at him. 

“Hey—“ 

“You need to go pick up the phone in the kitchen— I think it’s Monty? He said to get you to pick up the phone,” she hiccuped, grabbing onto his arm for balance, “Uhh— he said quick. He sounds kinda weird, like he’s scared?” 

Nathan immediately pulled away from her, navigating through the ocean of people and making his way into the kitchen. The pink phone was of the hook, right where Harper had left it. Time stood still. The noises in the house dampened as he reached for the phone and held it to his ear. 

“Hello?” he asked, covering his other ear with his hand. 

“Nathan,” Monty sounded relieved, though his voice was scratchy from the weak connection. 

“Monty,” Nathan answered, “what’s going on? Where are you calling from?”

“Nathan,” his voice was shaky, “I need you to come here right now.” 

“What?” The volume of the music increased. Nathan could barely hear his boyfriend’s voice over the sound of people screaming the lyrics. “It’s loud here, Mont, I can’t—“ 

“S-something happened,” Monty said. Nathan’s heart sank. 

“What? Are you okay? Where are you?” Nathan asked, panicking. His hands began to shake. 

“I’m at the seven eleven a few miles out of town,” Monty answered, “I’m on a payphone—“ the line cut out for a moment, and all Nathan could hear was static, “—he’s hurt, so is she. I’m not—“ the line cut again. 

“Monty!” Nathan shouted into the phone.

“Nathan — now — accident,” 

Nathan slammed the phone onto the hook and pushed through the crowd of people. He stumbled into the street, fumbling for the keys. Thousands of possibilities flashed through his mind. Had someone found out about him and Monty? Was someone holding him against his will? Where had he gone? 

He revved his engine and sped off towards the freeway, knowing the exact gas station Monty had spoken of on the phone. Nathan’s bottom lip worried between his teeth, his leg moving up and down with anxiety. If anyone had laid a finger on Monty, he had no idea what he’d do. It wouldn’t be good, that was for sure. It wouldn’t make his father proud. 

The gas station came into view on the dark road after only a few agonizing moments that had felt like hours. He sped up, tearing down the road and into the parking lot, jumping out of the car without even putting the parking brake on to rush to the payphone. He could see Monty standing there, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, hands wrapped around his arms as if he were holding himself together. 

“Monty!” He called, voice hoarse. 

Monty’s head jerked upwards, the tense expression on his face falling with relief. 

“Nathan,” he replied breathlessly. Nathan ran straight into him, wrapping his arms around the other’s small frame and pressing his face into his neck. 

“You’re okay,” he breathed, his voice shaking, “I thought something horrible had happened to you— I thought—“ 

He felt Monty’s hands on his chest, pushing him away. Nathan’s jaw slackened as the space grew between them. He took Monty’s face in his hands. “What’s wrong? What happened? Why are you out here?” 

Monty began to shake his head, slowly at first and then violently. “I came— Bellamy and Clarke told me to come with them— they needed help getting more beer. I— I— I was in the car, and we were going down the road— we missed the gas station and decided to turn but Bellamy,” 

Monty’s head hung, his entire body shaking with sobs, “The car spun out of control— and there was another car— and we just— we just—“

Nathan captured him in a hug again, rubbing his hands up and down Monty’s back, trying to calm him down. “Shh,” he breathed, resting his chin on Monty’s head, “Shh, it’s okay, you’re safe,” 

“No—“ Monty sobbed, “no, no, no, it’s not okay,” he tried to pull away but Nathan held onto him tighter, “she’s dead— we killed her, she’s—“ 

“Monty, who?” Nathan asked, gripping the smaller boy tighter, stifling his sobs. 

“We just— we have to go— I called the cops and—“ 

“Monty,” Nathan pulled away, placing both his hands on Monty’s shoulders, “take me to the crash, we’ll go make sure everyone is okay,” 

Monty wiped his eyes with his sleeves, nodding slowly as Nathan put his arm around him and led him towards the truck. The thought that people would see them crossed his mind, but it didn’t matter to him anymore, not when Monty was in pain, not when Monty needed him. 

He helped Monty climb into the passenger seat and closed the door, rushing to the driver’s seat and pressing the accelerator. Monty pointed down the road, and Nathan followed his directions. A few a few seconds, distant flashing lights came into view. Nathan swallowed hard, slowing as they approached the lights. Nathan pulled over a few hundred yards from the accident, barely able to make out the destroyed cars in the ditch. He could see Bellamy and Clarke, standing huddled with the police officer, but there was another figure crouching by the cars, a wail escaping their body as someone was loaded into the ambulance. 

Nathan jumped out of the truck, motioning for Monty to stay where he was. The smaller boy nodded, turning his body away from the flashing lights and placing his face in his hands.

Nathan stumbled towards the accident, covering his eyes from the piercing blue and red lights to gaze upon the accident. Bellamy’s car was easily recognizable from the color, but the body was all bent out o shape, the glass in the front windows completely shattered. The other car was twisted, into Bellamy’s car’s hood as if someone had tried to morph the two together. Glass was all over the torn seats inside, and there was a crimson red stain all over the passenger seat, and tainted red shards of glass on the hood. Nathan felt himself gag. 

“Miller,” a familiar voice called. He turned his head. Bellamy stared at him, eyes wide in panic, in fear. 

“What happened?” Nathan asked, voice weak.

Bellamy just shook his head, looking back to the crouched figure that had gone silent. Nathan felt his throat close up. It was Jasper. His face was bloody from a cut on his head, his arms scratched up and his hands shaking. Nathan’s eyes moved from Jasper’s collapsed body to the one inside the ambulance. There was no sound, just the flickering of bright, bleeding lights.

“Maya,” he breathed, taking a step backward. 

Jasper shook his head violently, his fingers clawing at his head. 

Bellamy and Clarke looked on, the blood drained from their face. 

He took another step backward. He turned to the police officer, “I’m t-taking Monty home,” Nathan stuttered. The officer wrote a quick note, studied him up and down with a frown, and nodded. 

Without sparing another look to Bellamy, he dashed to the car, climbing into the driver’s seat and taking off down the road, sitting frozen as Monty whimpered under his breath. 

“I should have made sure they were sober,” Monty whispered, “I shouldn’t have let the get in the car,” 

“It’s not your fault,” Nathan replied, his own voice a whisper. Maybe he didn’t believe that, maybe neither of them did. He still needed to say it, needed to make sure Monty knew. 

“Maya’s dead,” Monty whispered, his fingers digging into his shirt, “Maya’s dead, and Jasper— Jasper’s out there. I killed—“

“You didn’t kill anyone!” Nathan shouted, his entire body now trembling in fear. “This wasn’t your fault, it was an accident,” he tried to calm himself down, physically sensing the tension in the air, “It was an accident, and you’re safe now, it will be—“

“Maya’s not safe.” Monty deadpanned, staring out the window at the road. They were getting closer to home.

“I’m—“ Nathan didn’t know how to respond. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, slowing the car as they neared the neighborhood. Monty was supposed to go to Jasper’s, he was supposed to be with his best friend, and have a good night’s sleep, and then wake up and smile that beautiful smile.

Nathan pulled his car into Monty’s driveway. 

He had a feeling he wouldn’t be seeing that smile for a long time. 

“Come on,” he said, turning off the engine and slipping out of the car, “Let’s get you inside.” 

Monty didn’t move, so Nathan opened the door for him and slipped his arms underneath him, carrying him from the car to the front door. Monty wrapped his arms around Nathan’s neck, burying his face into the taller boy’s shoulder. Nathan could feel Monty’s tears against his throat, dripping from Monty’s eyes down into Nathan’s shirt. The door was unlocked, which was not unusual for the Greens, so he walked right in and right upstairs into Monty’s room. 

Nathan set Monty down onto the bed, sitting down on the edge and gently pushing Monty’s hair behind his ear. Monty laid on his side, arms tucked under his pillow. Nathan closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to process what had just happened. Monty would most certainly need time to think as well, and he wasn’t sure if he was going to fit very well into that time. He stood to leave, but felt a finger linked with his own, tugging him back. 

“Stay,” Monty whispered, looking up at Nathan with weary eyes. Nathan swallowed, glancing across the street to his father’s house. David would understand. He would have to. 

“Okay,” he whispered, climbing into bed and laying behind Monty. He pulled the smaller boy close, pressing his chest against his back and tugging the covers up and over them. Monty linked hands with Nathan, holding the bigger boy’s arms around him tightly. Nathan felt sobs begin to shake through Monty again, and he held on tighter. 

He’d never felt so lost, so unsure. There was nothing he could do to save Monty from this, nothing he could do to make this any better. 

“Don’t let go,” Monty whispered through his tears, “please,” he pleaded. Nathan squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his lips to the back of Monty’s neck. 

“Never. I promise.”

* * *

He loses Monty on a Thursday, two weeks after Maya’s death.

The entire school was quiet. Pictures of Maya were everywhere, taped to windows and walls. Everyone held their breath when teachers skipped over her name during roll. Jasper hadn’t returned to school until that day, and he looked like hell. His head was shaved, his eyes were black like bruises, he smelled like alcohol and weed, and when anyone approached him he just snapped at them with brutal taunts, even pushing a few kids out of his way to get to class. 

Nathan hadn’t talked to Monty since the day he spent the night. His parents had arrived later that day and Nathan had escaped to his own house, only to be grounded for not telling his father where he was and ungrounded after explaining what had happened with the accident and with Monty. 

It wasn’t until lunch that he saw him for the first time. He was wearing a black hoodie, despite the fact that it was May and already extremely hot. His face looked hollow, his eyes were glassy, and his posture slumped. Nathan began to walk over to him, a relieved expression on his face, but someone stepped in his way.

“Who let the murderer back in school?” Jasper called out. The cafeteria went silent. 

Nathan’s heart dropped, his fists curling at his sides. 

Monty looked up, his brows furrowed in confusion. Bellamy stepped forward from the outskirts of the room, standing in between Jasper and Monty. “Jasper,” he said cautiously, “just calm down,” 

“Calm down?” he shouted, letting out a broken cackle, “You’re the fucker who killed my girlfriend! You’re a murderer. And so is she,” he pointed to Clarke who stood a few yards away, “and so is he,” his finger moved to point directly at Monty. Jasper’s entire body was shaking. “He was supposed to be my best friend, and he murdered my girlfriend, the only girl I’ve ever loved— the only one I could trust—“

“Jasper,” Monty said, tears threatening to fall from his eyes, “Jasper please, I didn’t—“ 

“You didn’t what? You killed her, Monty. You’re nothing to me, now, you’re—“

“Calm down, Jasper,” Bellamy said again, his voice gaining confidence. Jasper’s eyes were wild, his fragile body wracked with silent sobs.

Nathan looked on in horror, frozen where he stood. He could hear the roaring of his own blood in his ears, could almost sense what was about to happen. 

“Why are you defending this faggot, Bellamy?” 

Nathan stopped breathing. 

Bellamy’s eyes widened in shock. “Excuse me—“ 

“ ‘You a fag too? Why would you defend a queer kid, Bellamy?” 

“No I’m—“ Bellamy stepped away, looking frantically between Jasper and Monty. Monty’s face was as white as a sheet, his whole body frozen in time. “I’m not queer— That’s—“ 

Out of the corner of Nathan’s eye he could see Murphy lifting his head, and quickly leaving the room. Bellamy saw it too, which only led to him panicking even more, “Jasper— you can’t just say that about someone, it’s not right.” 

“It’s true, though,” Jasper laughed, “tell them, Monty,” he said, stepping forward. Bellamy didn’t come to Monty’s defense this time. Nathan’s blood was boiling. Monty’s expression was oddly calm, solemn, resigned. Jasper turned on his heels, looking Nathan dead in the eye. 

“Tell them, Nathan— since you’re the fag who’s been fucking him all this time—“ 

“Say it again, Jasper.” Nathan barked. The whole room collectively gasped. Jasper looked shocked, almost hesitant, but kept going. 

“What? That you’re Monty’s homo boyfriend? I could say it all day—“ 

Nathan stepped forward.

“Don’t.” Monty whispered, but Nathan couldn’t hear him over the voices in his head screaming at him to attack, telling him to hit this son of a bitch until he could never hurt Monty again.

“You gonna hit me, Nathan? Gonna defend your boyfriend?” 

“Yeah,” Nathan said with a nod, stepping closer and closer with quick, confident steps, “Yeah I am.”

A look of fear flashed across Jasper’s face. 

The sound of Jasper’s nose cracking against Nathan’s fist echoed through the cafeteria, followed by the sickening thud of Jasper’s body hitting the floor. The cafeteria exploded in screams and shouts, and the world became a blur for just a few moments. 

When they tore Nathan off of him, Jasper was covered in his own blood, and Monty was nowhere to be seen. The administration dragged Nathan kicking and screaming to the principal’s office where he stayed locked up until his father arrived.

His heart had not stopped pounding in his chest, his mind hadn’t stopped churning out thoughts of Monty and what his father would do if he found out about all this. 

He could see David from across the hall, stone faced as the principal spat vitriol in his face. He could read the principal’s lips: “homosexual,” “rumors,” “Green,” “fight.” He didn’t feel sick, he felt triumphant. He felt alive. He felt alive, but he was afraid. His only priority now was to find Monty, to make sure he was okay. 

A few minutes later, David stormed into the room, took his son by his arm, and dragged him outside. The principal followed, screaming at David to punish his child, to beat the “unnatural, sinful ways” from his body. 

Halfway home, they had to stop the car so Nathan could vomit out the window.

Once the car pulled into the driveway, it was already dark. David said nothing, going from the car to the house, shaking his head and mumbling to himself the whole way there. 

Nathan climbed out himself, only to catch the flickering of light in his eyes from across the street. He turned his head, noticing the flickering of a distress call coming from Monty’s window. His eyes widened, and he could feel his bloodied fists aching. The light cut off quickly, in the middle of a pattern, and then the rest of the lights in the house cut off.

Nathan felt his heart thudding again, and immediately his legs were pumping and he was moving faster than he ever had towards Monty’s house. He could see Hannah Green carrying a suitcase from the door to the car, and Monty already in the backseat of the car, face in his palms. 

“Hey!” Nathan screamed, his voice cracking as he ran. Hannah looked up, her mouth opening as if she were going to try to yell something back, but she was interrupted.

Mr. Green stepped out of the house, a suitcase in his hand and a map in the other. He took one look at Nathan and dropped the bag. 

“You,” he hissed as Nathan approached, “you were the one who tainted my son,”

Nathan stopped dead in his tracks. Monty clambered out of the car, only to be held back by his mother. “Nate!” He screamed. Nathan looked between Mr. Green and Monty.

“Sir—“ he started.

“We’re leaving,” Mr. Green asserted, “get Montgomery in the car, Hannah,” he called. Hannah began to push Monty towards the back seat, but he resisted. 

“Nate please—“ 

“You should be disgusted with what you’ve done,” the man growled, “what you’ve done to my boy, to my family.” 

Miller took a step back, his chest heaving. 

“I knew it from the moment you stepped in my home that you were trouble, that you were going to turn my boy into a hooligan, a thug.” 

“I—“ 

“I’m doing what’s best,” Mr. Green shouted, his own voice trembling, “for my family.” 

Nathan spoke up, “No— you’re not. Monty needs to stay here,” 

“With you? With queer folk-- black folk like you? It’s an abomination—“ 

“It’s love!” Miller screamed, tears running down his face, “It’s love, Mr. Green, I love him, I love Monty I—“

The full force of the grown man’s punch hit him right in the jaw, and his back hit the ground hard. The back of his head snapped against the grass. Everything went black even though his eyes were wide open. 

He heard the click of the hammer on a gun, and Monty was screaming his name. 

“Nathan! Nathan get up! Nathan—“ 

The voice drew closer, but stopped short. Nathan blinked away the fog, and the barrel of the pistol was the first thing he saw when he regained his sight. Monty’s arm was twisted behind his back, his face red with pain, with anger. Mr. Green held his son in one hand and the weapon in the other, his eyes wild with panic. 

“You’re destroying my family, Nathan,” he said, “you—“ 

“NATHAN!” David Miller stood across the street, face pale with terror. Mr. Green looked between father and son. Monty continued to sob, trying to break free of his father’s hold that didn’t seem to be getting any looser. The two grown men stared at each other for a long time, long enough for Nathan to realize blood was pouring out of his nose and he had wicked whiplash from the punch. He turned his head, seeing his father approaching slowly, palms open and arms extended as if he were approaching a wild animal. 

“You don’t,” he said calmly, “have to do this.” 

Mr. Green’s hands shook. His eyes shifted to look at Hannah who stood by the car, hands over her mouth, tears running down her face.

David crouched down, placing his hands on Nathan’s shoulders, helping him sit up slowly, eyes still on the other man. In a flash, the hammer was uncocked, and Mr. Green was shoving Monty to the car and yelling at his wife.

“No,” Nathan sputtered, trying to jump upward, “no— Monty!” he screamed, but David held onto him. He kicked and fought, but David’s arms just kept holding him back, “Monty!”

Monty fought too, struggling all the way into the backseat, even as he was locked in. He tried to kick out the door, but it wouldn’t give. Nathan could see the distress on his face, see the way his legs shuddered with every kick. Mr. Green shut the trunk and jumped in the front seat, starting the car and pulling out of the driveway as fast as possible. The car was a blur as it moved down the street.

Nathan watched numbly as Monty pressed his hand against the back window, screaming his name over and over until even the car headlights weren’t visible, and the world had gone quiet once again. 

“Nathan,” David whispered as Nathan cried, “Nathan, it’s okay,” 

His legs gave out from underneath him and he collapsed to the ground, his father holding him from behind as he threw his head back and yelled as loudly as he could. “Nathan,” he kept saying, over and over, as his son rocked back and forth, back and forth in the middle of the yard, his father’s hands the only thing holding him together. 

* * *

No one looked him in the eye when he went in to to take his finals.

He didn’t walk for graduation, just accepted his diploma in the mail. 

When the moving van came a few weeks later, none of the workers would answer him as to where they were taking the boxes, no matter how much he offered to pay them, no matter what he said. 

He decided to go to the farthest university that would give him money, and on moving day he was relieved to find that there was no one from his high school attending the same school as him. 

He wrote letters every day for two years without an address to send them to, wouldn’t consider going on dates or going out, even if it was with girls. 

Every black haired man on the street turned into his lover, only to disappoint him when he saw their faces. 

He felt hollow, was hollow, for years, dreaming of Monty’s face in the window, dreaming of stolen kisses and hot breath against his spine, hands on his thighs and a gun between his eyes. 

* * *

He sees him again in 1993.

A featherlight kiss pressed against his forehead as he slowly opened his eyes, inhaling sharply as he woke.

“Morning, Grumps,” a sweet voice smiled in his ear. He smiled back, stretching his arms out with a yawn. Sunlight filtered in through the windows and he could hear Red Hot Chili Peppers playing from somewhere else inside the apartment. 

“Morning,” he replied, curling into the blankets and burying his face in the pillow. 

“I’m sorry I can’t be there today,” the other voice called from the kitchen. He can smell burning toast and hear the sound of bacon sizzling on the stove. Despite the pleasant environment around him, Nathan couldn’t help but to feel sick. 

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. He sighed, rubbing his eyes and forcing a smile. “Don’t worry, Bri,” he replied, rolling his neck, “I’ll be okay.” 

“No, I feel awful,” the other man said from the kitchen, “I want to be there to support you, but—“ 

“Your asshole superiors want you to go to surgery today.” 

“Yeah.” 

Nathan nodded, standing to his feet and looking for his shirt, “I’m serious. You’ve always been there for me. I need to handle this one alone. You just need to go be smart and do your doctor thing,” 

The other man laughed, stepping into the bedroom and smiling at Nathan. “If you say so. But call the front office if you need something. They can always page me if it’s an emergency.” 

Nathan nodded, picking his shirt up off the floor and slipping it on over his head as the other man watched in silence. 

“Thanks, Brian.” he said with a weak grin. Brian nodded, planting a kiss to Nathan’s forehead. 

“Anything for you, Nate— Nathan.” Nathan glared up at him, turning back to the bed to find his pants. “I know, I know. You hate being called that. Sorry.” 

Nathan sighed, finding his jeans and pulling them up and around his hips, slotting the belt through the buckle. He patted his pockets, finding his wallet and keys, and began to make his way out of the apartment. 

“Hey,” Brian called, “no breakfast?” he asked, quirking a brow. Nathan shook his head, smiling again and letting himself out. He closed the door behind him and made his way to his car.

He only had a few hours before he’d have to go to funeral home. He rested his forehead against the steering wheel, closing his eyes tightly. Everything that needed to be done had been done, except he hadn’t written his speech. David Miller deserved a phenomenal send off, and Nathan knew all his military friends would have beautiful, funny things to say about the man, but his own son couldn’t think of a single word.

He sat up, turning on the car and heading towards his apartment a few miles away. He’d returned to Pensacola when his father got cancer, taking care of the man until his time had come. He’d died on a Thursday and had left everything he had to his only son. His funeral plans had been simple, insisting that Nathan not spend much money on him, but of course Nathan felt like he owed his father more than just a short ceremony and a few gunshots. 

Two hours later when he entered the funeral home in his itchy black suit, he regretted doing more than what his father asked. The flower arrangements were sickly sweet smelling, the picture  he’d chosen for his father was old, sepia, and the expression on David’s face was so stern, so solemn. His father, even in his last moments, had been full of life, full of passion and love.

Nathan blinked, standing by the door as people filtered in, people he’d met once or twice who gave him sympathetic looks and apologies. These were all things he didn’t want. What he really wanted was another minute, another hour with his father to thank him. He wanted the comfort of feeling safe, he wanted this to be over with, and he wanted to dig himself into his own bed and stay there for an eternity. 

He shook so many hands he lost count, smiled at so many crying faces, and when it was time, he sat at the front of the church, staring at his father’s closed casket. There was a bouquet of lilies on top of the casket that was already covered in an American flag. 

The first to speak was the priest. He spoke comforting words about heaven, about David Miller’s undying faith in love and in life. He spoke about rest and about relief. Nathan’s shoulders tightened. 

The next few speakers worked with David in the military and after his retirement. A few had served in Vietnam with him, a few had just known him as their superior. A few of Nathan’s aunts and uncles spoke next, but none of them were very close to David. They’d been a large family, and the age gaps between some of the children caused a rift in their relationships. 

Once the last of them had spoken, it was Nathan’s turn. He swallowed, peeling himself off the pew and standing up at the podium. He swallowed, unable to look out at the group of people before him. He pulled a slip of paper from his pocket that contained a poem, “Do not go gentle into that good night,” (his father’s favorites in his dying days), and placed it on the podium. He swallowed again, adjusting his tie before scanning the poem and looking out into the crowd of faces before him. 

His lips wouldn’t move. A bead of sweat formed on his brow. 

“My father,” he started, clearing his throat. He took a deep breath and adjusted the microphone, closing his eyes and counting to five before starting over. “My father was no ordinary man,” he said, opening his eyes and pushing his chest forward. The room, like a congregation, nodded in agreement, “My father was strong,” there were hums of affirmation, “he was passionate, he was determined.” Some of the military men laughed at this. “My father was, by many definitions, a good man. He did his duty to his country,” Nathan looked at the people in military uniforms, “to his people,” someone raised their fist, “to his family.” 

Nathan swallowed. The memories begin to flood into his mind. His father’s strong, calloused hands holding him tightly, his father’s comforting words every morning and every night, his father’s insistence on happiness even in the darkest of situations.

“My father was more to me than a father,” he said, crumbling the poem in his hand, “he was a father, a mother, a nanny, a mentor, a role model, an advisor, a friend, and a protector.” There are more hums of agreement, “He promised my mother that when she was gone, he’d do his best to protect me, to love me, and to accept me for who I was.” 

His eyes ran over the many faces of the people before him. His gaze caught on one in particular, and he felt his entire body melt. He froze in shock, but only for a moment, swallowing before regaining his pace. “I’m sure she’s with him now,” he said with a laugh, “I’m sure she’s kicking his ass for letting me get away with all the bad things I got away with back in the day,” his smile grew, as did the smile of the man who’d caught his eye. “I’m sure she’s kissing him all over, asking him why he couldn’t just wait a little bit longer, just stay on Earth a little bit more.”

He could hear people sniffling, unaware that his own eyes were watering. “My father was my favorite person, a cliche, I know, but it’s true. He held me close when I was little, sang me to sleep even though he had a God-awful voice, read me stories and made me love my skin… He hugged me and told me things would be okay when I scraped my knees, or when I broke the rules. He held it all together when things were falling apart.

“He was my protector, my best friend. He exposed me to a brave world, a beautiful world, but kept me safe, kept me sane.” 

The man at the back of the church started to cry, wiping his tired eyes with his sleeves. Beside him sat a taller, thinner man who was also familiar. Nathan wondered for a moment if his father had planned this all along, if he knew this would happen. 

“David Miller was a legend,” he said lifting his chin, “he changed the world by changing my world. I hope that one day I am able to impact the world in the way that he did: with quiet anger, with compassion, with understanding, with knowledge, and with love. Rest in peace to the greatest father, and the greatest man, I have ever known.” 

Nathan tore his eyes away from the man in the back and stepped down. The room exploded in applause and tears. He nodded to men and women as he walked straight down the aisle and outside the church. He stood at the door for a few moments to collect himself as he cried, then began to walk around the church to the back. After a few minutes he found a bench hidden under a tree that looked out onto a pond. There were ducks quacking and geese waddling around the shore, the palm trees and the grass swaying in the wind. 

He sat, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his eyes. He could hear the bell ringing in the church. After a beat, he felt someone sit beside him on the bench and could feel their eyes on him. 

He turned his face, looking up at Monty with empty eyes. 

“That was beautiful.” 

The older man breathed, looking at Nathan as if he wasn’t real, as if he wanted to reach out and touch him to make sure he was really there. Nathan felt the same way about Monty.

“Thank you,” he replied, sitting up and staring out at the pond. He licked his lips nervously, his heart beating quickly in his chest. 

“I wish I could have said goodbye to him,” Monty said, eyes still trained on the other man, “I wanted to thank him for everything he did… for us.” 

Nathan huffed, shaking his head. “You have no idea how much I wish I could do that. You have…” 

“No. I don’t.” he responded quietly, his brows knitted between his eyes. Monty blinked slowly. “Nate…”

“I thought you were dead.” he spoke softly, but sternly. “I thought you father killed you. I looked for you every day, wrote you letters, asked everyone I knew. The school wouldn’t tell me where your records had been transferred.”

Monty began to shake his head. 

“I was in agony for years. I felt guilty that you had to suffer while I was alive, while I was accepted and loved.”

“Nate, please,” 

“No. Monty,” he turned his head, then the rest of his body followed, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t able to protect you, I let you go when I promised—“

“You did your best. You did what you could do.” Monty smiled weakly. “If you want me to forgive you… there’s nothing to forgive. I’m safe now, I’m my own person. I’m alive. I’m here for you, for your father. He changed my world too by giving me you.” 

Nathan felt his stomach writhing, felt his chest tighten. Tears threatened to fall again. 

“Was that Jasper?” he asked, his voice a whisper. Monty laughed a melodious, quiet laugh. 

“Yes. He lives with me, now. He went full on alcoholic after high school but he sobered up after I came back to Pensacola. We went to Atlanta for a while, and then we got this letter telling us your father had passed away. And here we are.” Nathan nodded. “I was in Birmingham,” he whispered, eyes flicking over Nathan’s eyes and lips down to his hands, “my father took me to a camp to convert me… you know. It didn’t work, obviously, and I ran. College was easy, but I knew I couldn’t come back to you yet, not with my father still looking for me.” 

Nathan felt his lip quivering. 

“I wanted so badly to return, to hold you again and just—“ 

“I can’t stop looking at you.” Nathan interrupted, his hand inching towards Monty’s. “It’s like time hasn’t passed. You’re still as beautiful as you were when we were together.” 

Monty’s eyes flicked downward. “I’m still yours,” he said, looking up with hesitant eyes, “I was always yours.” 

Nathan smiled weakly. He placed his hand on top of Monty’s, squeezing it tight. The familiarity is consuming, memories of another time swirling around in his head. He remembers this exact feeling, the race of his heart, the shallow sweet breaths escaping him, the soft hand in his. 

He leaned in and rested his forehead against Monty’s, breathing in his familiar smell, feeling his familiar warmth. Time transcended for a just a moment, and they were back in Nathan’s Chevy in 1985, soaring down the freeway together. 

The bell tolling again broke them from their reverie, and Nathan pulled away. 

“I need to be getting back,” he breathed, pulling his hand away and standing. Monty nodded knowingly, eyes trained on the space on the ground between his feet. Nathan looked him over one last time, making sure he’d be alright. He turned, shoving his hands in his pockets and making his way to the church. 

“Nathan!” Monty called out. He froze. 

“Is there someone else… someone new?” he asked. Nathan turned slowly, a smile on his lips.

“Yes. But he’s not you. He’ll never be you.”

Monty exhaled, his face full of fearful hope. 

“I made you wait seven years,” he said, standing and walking towards the other man, going right past him on the path to the church. He called back over his shoulder, “I can wait as long as it takes.”

Nathan’s cheeks felt warm, a strange fluttering in his stomach. He smiled, feeling his eyes watering again. He jogged to catch up, nudging Monty with his shoulder in a way that almost felt instinctual. 

“Don’t hold your breath,” he joked, and the two of them laughed together, harmonizing in the way of happiness.

Many years later, Monty would describe them as two halves of one whole converging, a pair of soulmates of sorts. Nathan would just call it love. 


End file.
